


remembrance

by ladydetective



Series: Hope and Stars [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, Introspection, Post TLJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 00:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13422513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydetective/pseuds/ladydetective
Summary: "Amilyn. Wonderful, weird Amilyn. It did not come as a great surprise to her that the people she was now felt comfortable enough to call her friends as well as comrades were unaware of the particulars of their relationship. Most of them hadn’t been born when it had started, after all. Nor had they declared their love for one another in front of a platoon of Stormtroopers – and Darth Vader himself – before the other was frozen in carbonite. But they’d loved each other, all the same."During a rare minute alone, Leia takes a moment to remember her losses.





	remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, I originally intended this to be a long one-shot, BUT the lengths and tones of individual segments were wildly inconsistent and it threw the balance off, so I thought posting as a series would be better. This is the introduction. With this format I can write whichever scene I feel like and then post right away, which means that hopefully you guys will get to read it quicker. I've never actually written for SW before and honestly I'm pretty new to the fandom, so I'd reallt, really appreciate feedback. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!!!!

Leia sank into her chair, limbs sagging with a bone-deep exhaustion. She was alone, at last – a rare occurrence, these days. There had been much to do after their escape from Crait – troops to organise, supplies to gather, plans to make – and she’d been unable to grab more than a handful of minutes to herself amidst the hubbub. There was always more to do, and she _liked_ it that way. Time to herself meant time to think, and time to think meant a return of the crippling sense of loss that had dogged her ever since Ben – since _Kylo Ren_ – had stabbed Han with the lightsaber she had once helped him make. She couldn’t afford to dwell on that loss – not with the weight of the resistance on her shoulders.

She’d still be working now, if Poe hadn’t caught her swaying woozily on her feet after too many hours spent on them and ordered her to bed. She’d had a few choice words for him – a flyboy, no matter how talented or close to her he was, couldn’t just order his general to retire for the night – but he’d been backed by just about every soul left under her command. Finn had crossed his arms with a determined expression and nodded in agreement, whereas Rey had timidly added that she was _looking a bit tired_. Damned traitors. Leia loved all of them.

She sighed. _Well, if I’m being forced to get some rest, I might as well get it over with_. Lifting a weary hand, Leia reached up to undo her elaborate hairstyle. In the years that she’d been leading the resistance, she’d foregone her usual braids in favour of styles that were easier to construct on the move. Today, however – and every day since Han’s passing – she’d worn it in the traditional Alderaanian mourning style. One custom-made pin for each departed loved one.

Leia didn’t have enough hair to fit the number of pins it would take to properly display her grief for Alderaan. She doubted anyone in the galaxy did. One would have to suffice. She removed it from her hair and held it in her hand. It was plain – in Alderaan, it would have been considered offensively so. But Leia believed it to be appropriate, in its own way – it was one of the few relics of her homeland that she had left. She had been wearing it the day she left Alderaan, and it had still been in her hair the day she witnessed her planet’s destruction. One pin for the countless lives lost – including those of her mother, father, friends – inadequate, but the best she could muster. She set it on the small table beside her, and allowed her hands to continue their work.

The next pin to come undone was a miniature replica of the _falcon_. Leia smiled at the memory it invoked – though that too was tinged with sadness, as so many of her memories had become. Han had given it to her while she had been pregnant with Ben – he’d been _convinced_ that Ben would be a girl, and there was no persuading him otherwise. Probably part of the reason he’d been so adamant about it was because _she’d_ believed he’d be a boy. Regardless, Han – in an unexpected display of thoughtfulness that would become characteristic of their marriage – had the pin made for her. He’d understood how important braids were to Alderaanian culture, and wanted Leia to share that with their little girl. It had been cast aside once Ben had been born, but she’d rediscovered it when she cleared out her apartment on Hosnian Prime shortly after she had decided to form the resistance.

In a way, Leia was wearing this pin for both of them – for Han and for Ben. They were both lost to her now.

Leia felt tears form in her eyes – tears for her son, tears for the husband she’d always loved despite their differences - but she pushed them back. _Not yet. Not now_. _I have to be strong_. _There will be time for tears and mourning later – but now I have to be strong_.

She moved on, taking the next pin from her hairstyle. By now, strands of her rapidly greying hair were falling from their previous position and beginning to frame her face. It was a sensation she was largely unfamiliar with – she very rarely wore her hair down. Most nights, even, she tied it back in a simpler style to make the work of taming it easier on herself in the morning.

 _This_ particular pin was a recent addition, and one she hoped she’d never need. She’d lived most of her adolescence without Luke, but had always been able to feel his presence. She hadn’t understood what it was, not then – that understanding would come later, along with a plethora of other abilities and responsibilities to get used to. Feeling that lifelong connection sever as she’d sat in the base, _helpless_ – no. This was something she didn’t want to dwell on.  

Later, once she’d had a chance to breathe, she’d taken a moment to despair of the fact that she wouldn’t even be able to carry out this simple act of mourning for her own twin – she didn’t have _time_ to think of something personal she could use, and there weren’t exactly any markets nearby where she could stop and pick up something in the interim. Rey – sweet, lovely Rey who, despite dealing with her own emotions regarding Luke’s death – had taken time to craft her a mourning pin. How the girl had even known about Alderaanian mourning traditions was a mystery, but one she was thankful for. The pin itself was small, crafted from pieces of metal siphoned off Luke’s lightsaber – but to Leia, it meant the world. She could bring this little reminder of her brother around with her, for as long as she may need it.

Rey’s kind gesture, however, put another unwelcome thought in Leia’s head. Everyone knew that she mourned Luke – he was her brother, and a legend to the rest of the galaxy. They did not realise how deeply she grieved for Amilyn.

 _Amilyn._ Wonderful, weird Amilyn. It did not come as a great surprise to her that the people she was now felt comfortable enough to call her friends as well as comrades were unaware of the particulars of their relationship. Most of them hadn’t been born when it had started, after all. Nor had they declared their love for one another in front of a platoon of Stormtroopers – and Darth Vader himself – before the other was frozen in carbonite. But they’d loved each other, all the same.

It had been a quiet love – a serene love. If her relationship with Han had been fire – passion and arguments and feelings that burned with the intensity of flame – then her relationship with Amilyn had been air. Sometimes a light, comforting breeze – exactly what was needed to carry one of them through a particularly rough day. Other times, they had been a hurricane – wild and untameable and exactly the kind of thing to carry them through the night.

And now she was gone. Leia removed the final pin from her hair and turned it over in her hands. It was nothing special – she was not a particularly gifted craftswoman, nor had she the time to sit down and make a masterpiece – but she was proud of it, nonetheless. The crude little five-pointed star was hardly a conventional mourning symbol – but then, Amilyn had not been a conventional woman. And she had always loved the stars.

Despite the heaviness of the loss settling in her chest, thinking of Amilyn as she held the star in her hands brought a rare smile to Leia’s features. They’d had a run of it, the two of them. Unbidden, memories began to rise to the surface and unfurled in her mind like a warm, comfortable blanket – memories of them together, memories of being _happy_. She moved to bat them away, to slam that particular can of worms shut before it threatened to overwhelm her – but something inside forced her to reconsider.

Amilyn deserved to be remembered. Her sacrifice ensured that she would go down in the history books as a war hero, an admiral worthy of respect and reverence – presuming, of course, that the resistance won, which wasn’t looking likely at this stage – but dammit, she’d been _so much more._ She’d been bizarre – perhaps the strangest woman Leia had ever met, and she was Luke Skywalker’s twin. She’d been funny, she’d been kind – but most importantly, she’d been someone Leia could rely on, wholly and without reservation.

Leia smiled softly. _Well_ , she reasoned, _so long as I’m on forced R &R, I might as well take some time to remember Amilyn. I owe her that much_.

Mind made up, Leia sank back into her chair, closed her eyes, and remembered.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any suggestions/prompts for future scenes between them, feel free to hit me up on tumblr @poisoniivys or twitter @luisasnowlano


End file.
